


Rise of an Empire

by savya398



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:33:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savya398/pseuds/savya398
Summary: One decision can change the course of history as they know it. Young Tom Riddle makes a different choice in regards to  how to go about taking control of the wizarding world. The result is a vastly different wizarding world under the rule of the Dark Lord Voldemort.





	1. The Boy Who Vanished

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a non-crossover story in forever! I only have a few chapters written so far but this is an idea I've had kicking around for a while.

Bellatrix grinned in manic glee as she fired curses into the chaos surrounding her. Her black curls and equally black robes whipped around her as she slashed her wand towards yet another foe in the deadly dance she loved so much. She laughed as the curse struck its target causing the other wizard to drop to the floor and throw up his own intestines.

This was where she belonged. In the midst of a fierce battle, fighting against those who opposed the Dark and her most precious Lord. This particular battle was even more momentous than those that had come before it. Their forces had finally gained access to the last remaining stronghold of the Order of the Phoenix left in the United Kingdom. The Order of the Phoenix was the last bit of the resistance of those who still opposed the Dark Lord. Their Lord had personally joined this battle to take part in exterminating the last of the vermin. It was always more thrilling for Bellatrix to be able to fight alongside her Lord.

Tonight was the culmination of years of hard work. Tonight their efforts would finally be realized. It was oddly appropriate that the Dark would finally defeat those last pitiful few who still opposed him on a Samhain night. Tonight they would finally take complete control over wizarding Britain, and the Dark Lord would reign supreme, as it should be.

The Dark Lord had had control of the Ministry of Magic for nearly five years now. However, due to the infuriating efforts of the blood traitors and mudbloods under the direction of the doddering old fool, Albus Dumbledore, there was still a small fragment of opposition to the Dark Lord's glorious rule. But not after tonight. Tonight was the end of the muggle-loving fools.

Hogwarts had fallen to the Dark Lord's rule over a year prior. The Dark Lord had wanted it much earlier but Dumbledore's interference, and hold over the wards had kept the Dark Lord's forces out. Now, without the protection afforded by the old castle there was only a small pocket of those who opposed the Dark Lord left. All the others were dead, had fled, or conceded to rightful rule the Dark Lord.

Tonight was the end of the stain on the might of wizard superiority. It was the end of blood traitors, muggle lovers, and mudbloods in wizarding Britain.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the traitors had some advanced warning to their attack as not all of the traitors were present, and some had managed to escape before the Dark Lord could get the anti-apparation and portkey wards up. It looked like the Death Eaters also had a spy in their midst, and they had managed to tip off their enemy to the attack. Bellatrix was more than certain that their Lord would find this traitor, and their Lord would appropriately punish whoever it was.

Bellatrix's grin sharpened with vicious anticipation. The young wizard she was dueling shuddered in fear at the crazed elation on Bellatrix's face. The momentary freezing was the only window of opportunity Bellatrix needed. She cast the Killing Curse with an ease born of malice and repeated use, dispatching her opponent in a flash of green light.

Bellatrix casually swept over her felled enemy in search of the next.

"Slow down, Bella. Save some for the rest of us," Rodolphus, her husband, chided good-naturedly.

Rodolphus was a large man. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, and a well-muscled physique that wasn't common in wizards. Wizards tended to be leaner as muscle wasn't as necessary when one had magic. His hair was a thick, dark auburn hair that fell straight to his chin. At the moment it was pulled back into a low ponytail to better accommodate for the battle. He had straight almost fierce features that were a tad too sharp to be traditionally handsome. His artfully styled goatee only added to his severe appearance. The most arresting thing about him were his golden-yellow hawk-like eyes.

While Bellatrix in no way shape or form romantically loved her husband, not when all of her love belonged to her Lord, they were friends. One could even call them best friends if one was a sentimental fool. Rodolphus Lestrange's even-tempered nature was certainly the perfect foil for her own fiery passion. He kept her grounded, and she pushed him. They always watched one another's backs when in a duel, and the two of them were unstoppable together.

"You keep up," she snapped back.

Her gaze swept over the battle, searching for her Lord. She knew he wanted to confront Dumbledore himself but Bellatrix hadn't seen the muggle lover anywhere. It seemed the Order's brave and benevolent leader had abandoned his flock in their moment of need.

Bellatrix pushed deeper into the building. The remaining Order members were overwhelmed, and obviously only staving off the inevitable. Most of them were just trying to escape now. Not that they could possibly stand a chance to do so due to the powerful anti-apparation and portkey wards their Lord cast upon arrival. They didn't stand a chance against the greater numbers of the Death Eaters.

Bellatrix pushed through the old manor house, taking out any who were stupid enough to get between her and her mission to find her Lord. Eventually she located her Lord by catching the residual energy of the delicious darkness of his magic. No other's magic could ever compare to the rich and powerful darkness of her Lord's.

Her Lord was in one of the back rooms lazily pointing his wand at the trembling form of a brunette haired young witch. It took Bellatrix only a moment to place her: McKinnon. Marlene McKinnon to be exact, she was a pureblood but a brash Gryffindor and a muggle loving blood traitor. Bellatrix knew of her due to the fact that she was a friend of Bellatrix's disgraceful cousin, Sirius. Her cousin and all of his little Gryffindor friends had joined Dumbledore's resistance. As had her shameful sister, Andromeda. Her sister's betrayal was not a subject she wished to dwell on at the glorious moment of their triumph.

Come to think of it she had not seen hide nor hair of her traitorous cousin or any of his little band of friends anywhere in the Order headquarters. It was a little concerning. What were they up to that had led from their safe house? It also would have been nice to duel, and personally remove the stain to the Black family name.

McKinnon was standing protectively in front of a chubby toddler in a crib. Bellatrix only caught a glimpse of messy black hair before the blood traitor shifted to better shield the baby with her own body. Bellatrix grinned at the opportunity being presented. She recognized that messy head of hair. It was Potter hair.

But who was the mother? Was it McKinnon? Bellatrix didn't think so despite the young witch's protective stance in front of the baby.

James Potter had been obsessed with the mudblood, Lily Evans, since they were in Hogwarts. This hadn't changed when they graduated, and joined the Order. Evans and Potter had been seen on the battlefield multiple times together. Bellatrix had personally witnessed the care and attention that they showed one another during battles, and had attempted to exploit it for her own gain. She grudgingly had to admit they were impressive when working together much like herself and Rodolphus. They had even escaped the Dark Lord's capture several times. Not an easy feat.

Evans and Potter had been underground since they graduated from Hogwarts, which happened to be the year that the Dark Lord had taken complete control of the Ministry of Magic. The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters had been slowly infiltrating the Ministry for years before that but they had taken total control almost five years prior.

McKinnon stood tall, glaring defiantly at the Dark Lord even though the Dark Lord had already divested her of her wand. Only the slight trembling of her frame betrayed the fear she was feeling. Gryffindors, they were always so idiotically brave even at the very end.

"It seems you were left behind, Miss McKinnon. Have your brave friends and your noble, glorious leader abandoned you?" the Dark Lord drawled silkily, red eyes glittering with twisted amusement.

"They would never," McKinnon spat.

The Dark Lord's only acknowledgement of Bellatrix's arrival was a brief nod. Bellatrix was thrilled that he was going to allow her to stay to witness whatever plan he had for the blood traitor and the child. No doubt her Lord was disappointed that he hadn't gotten the chance to finally end Dumbledore, and planned to take it out on the one who was left behind.

The old fool would live to fight for muggles and mudbloods another day. Unfortunately.

Bellatrix loved her Lord with everything she possessed. He was beautiful in everyway to her. Many often got stuck on his physical beauty. Yes, his features were physically flawless with their sharp, elegant lines that provided him with an otherworldly beauty. He possessed thick, curling black hair that always seemed to be perfectly in place even in the heat of the fiercest battles. His physical form was tall and graced with powerful, lean muscles. But there was so much more to him than his physical appearance, and Bellatrix would have loved him even if was physically repulsive.

Never before had there been anyone like him. He was the champion of the Dark. More powerful, intelligent, and ruthless than any that had come before him. That was why he would succeed where so many others had failed. This was why Bellatrix loved him, and would always be his fiercest and most loyal follower.

"Yet, they are not here, and you are left all by yourself. Well, not entirely by yourself," the Dark Lord smirked. "Who is it that you are protecting so fiercely?"

McKinnon jutted her chin stubbornly, her lips firmly sealed.

"Let's see, he must be Potter's spawn. Who is his mother is the question. You? No, I don't think Potter would betray that mudblood of his," the Dark Lord mused.

"Don't call her that," McKinnon snarled, despite the tears forming in her eyes.

"I'll call her what I please. Now tell me, where have your fellows fled?" the Dark Lord demanded.

"Gone. I don't know where they've gone. You can torture me all you like but I can't tell you what I don't know. They'll live to fight you another day," McKinnon announced proudly.

"To die another day," the Dark Lord corrected. " _Legilimens_."

The brunette blood traitor screamed as the Dark Lord's spell hit her. Her body shuddered as the Dark Lord's glittering ruby eyes kept her pinned on her feet. The baby began to cry as he heard the whimpers of the witch. After only a few moments the Dark Lord released McKinnon. She dropped to her knees, her body unable to hold itself upright after experiencing the might of the Dark Lord's mind.

"You are telling the truth. You know nothing of importance. Clever Dumbledore to only give pieces, and not the entire picture. So what shall I do with you and the Potter child?"

Bellatrix chuckled at the Dark Lord's musings, drawing the attention of the blood traitor. The brunette jerked in surprise obviously not having realized that anyone else had joined them. Bellatrix smirked as the younger woman tensed further and pushed herself onto her shaky feet in order to shield the child once more.

"I suppose I will let you live, Marlene McKinnon. You are a pureblood witch, adequately powerful and intelligent. We need all the magical blood we can get. All you need to do is step aside," the Dark Lord offered, a taunting light in his crimson eyes.

Bellatrix frowned. Her Lord wouldn't really let this blood traitor live would he? No, it had to be some sort of mind game he was playing. Perhaps he was angrier about Dumbledore slipping between his fingers than he let on, and needed to amuse himself to cheer himself up.

"No, I won't let you kill my godson," McKinnon firmed her stance.

"You may live, be a part of the empire I am creating, all you need to do is take a step to your left," the Dark Lord mocked.

"Please, not Harry. I'll do anything. Not Harry," McKinnon begged.

The Dark Lord sighed, obviously becoming bored with the game almost as quickly as he had created it. The Dark Lord was known for his mercurial moods.

"One more chance. Stand aside."

"No," the brunette stated firmly.

"If you insist. _Avada Kedavra_!" the Dark Lord cast the spell faster than Bellatrix had thought possible. She should have known better, her Lord was always capable of the impossible.

A flash of green light engulfed the brunette blood traitor, and in the next instance she crashed to the floor like an inferi whose master had cut the spell.

The toddler with Potter's messy mop of black hair began to cry once more as he stared at the still form of his caretaker with emerald green eyes. The boy's small hands gripped the bars of the crib to hold himself up on wobbly legs. The Dark Lord turned his attention to the crying baby boy.

" _Avada Kedavra,_ " the Dark Lord cried again without even a hint of hesitation.

For the second time in less than a minute a flash of green filled the room. However, this time it was different. The curse had successfully found its target. The green spell struck the toddler. Then beyond reasoning the curse rebounded, and went flying straight back at the Dark Lord. Bellatrix could only watch in frozen horror as the green curse slammed into her Lord's chest.

The backlash of the rebounded Killing Curse caused both the Dark Lord and Bellatrix to go flying. Bellatrix slammed into the floor, her head hit the hard wood, and she lost consciousness.

There was no way to know how long she had been out but any amount of time was too long. She had to get to her Lord. By sheer force of will she managed to claw her way back to the waking world. Bellatrix was shocked and disoriented but she quickly forced herself into a sitting position. She had to make sure that he was all right. Her own pain and health didn't matter. Only getting to her Lord mattered.

Her eyes quickly locked onto the sickeningly still form of her Lord several meters from his position before the impact. A great cloud of writhing darkness hovered over the body of her Lord with a small tendril of darkness connecting it to the Dark Lord's body. Bellatrix couldn't fathom whether or not the cloud meant something good or bad for her Lord. Before she could make a decision the darkness seemed to condense itself and then merged with the Dark Lord's body.

For a moment everything was still. Then her Lord gasped. His ruby red eyes shot open, and he jerked upward into a sitting position.

"Bellatrix!" he rasped, his breathing harsh as he clutched at his chest.

"My Lord!" she cried, crawling as quickly as she could to his side. Her own pain meant nothing.

"The boy?" he demanded as he continued to pant, looking far more shaken than she had ever seen him. His limbs were trembling, and he seemed to be straining to stay conscious by pure force of his indomitable will.

Bellatrix glanced over. She hadn't given the toddler a second thought. Her main priority was always her Lord. But sure enough the baby was inexplicably still alive. He was unconscious but his small chest still rose and fell signaling that he still lived.

"He lives, my Lord," Bellatrix answered promptly.

"Bring him to me," the Dark Lord commanded.

Bellatrix didn't understand what had just happened or why her Lord would want the baby. However, she was always quick to obey her Lord's orders, and she wasn't about to stop now. It certainly wasn't her place to question him.

She needed to be especially quick now. Her Lord was in pain and needed her now more than ever. Bellatrix quickly ran to scoop up the boy. He was young, around the same age as her own nephew, Draco, and small enough for her to carry easily. She was back at her Lord's side within moments with the toddler.

"Give me the boy. I must return to my manor immediately. I will trust you to finish up matters here. Destroy the building, however, keep a few of the Order members alive for questioning. Some of them must have an idea of which country Dumbledore would have fled to," the Dark Lord commanded.

"Of course, my Lord," Bellatrix nodded in assent, and handed him the unconscious child.

She wanted to argue, and ask after his health, insist she bring him directly to a healer even. Bellatrix knew that thought was irrational. The Dark Lord could take care of himself better than any healer ever could even after an event as unfathomable as the one she had just witnessed. If anyone would know what to do after such an inexplicable magical occurrence it would be her Lord. He also would not appreciate her arguing with him. The Dark Lord knew best after all, and didn't like his orders being questioned.

She watched as her Lord activated his portkey specially created to allow him and him alone to pass through the wards of his home. At least he would be safe, and would be able to ascertain his health. No doubt he needed to take the boy in order to understand what exactly had happened.

Pushing the event from her mind for the moment, Bellatrix went to complete her Lord's last command.

It took a depressingly short amount of time to subdue or kill the remaining few Order members. No matter how much they were tortured none of those still living could tell them where the other Order members or their revered leader had gone. None of them knew who it had been to warn them about the impending attack. The only thing they knew was that the plan was to flee the country as quickly as they could. There were so few here at this headquarters because members were preparing their new headquarters. None of the remaining members knew which country they were even fleeing to.

Bellatrix was eager to depart, and left the remaining prisoners in Rodolphus' capable hands so that she might check on the status of her Lord.

She quickly made her way to Dark Lord's grand manor. Only the Inner Circle Death Eaters knew the location of the Dark Lord's private manor. Lower tier Death Eaters could only access the manor through a portkey made by the Dark Lord himself or when directly summoned through their dark mark.

Even Inner Circle Death Eaters couldn't just enter the manor whenever they wanted. They were only granted access through their dark marks when called for missions or meetings.

Bellatrix was relieved that she still had access to the manor. The large double doors to the mansion swung open as soon as she approached. Once in the foyer Bellatrix wavered for a moment. Her desire to check on her Lord warred with the knowledge that her Lord would not appreciate being burst in on.

The sharp cries of a child helped to make her decision. Following the sounds of the crying she found herself standing outside the Dark Lord's office. The door was open, and inside her Lord was sitting behind his grand mahogany desk reading a piece of parchment. He appeared unharmed. The Potter boy was standing up in a crib that the Dark Lord must have transfigured, as Bellatrix was certain that before now a crib had never graced the Dark Lord's manor before.

Tears were still leaking from large emerald green eyes but the sobbing had mostly stopped. A small floating snake that her Lord had conjured entranced the boy, and had halted his cries. An angry red wound, bizarrely in the shape of a lightning bolt, sat on the small child's forehead where there hadn't been one before. It must have been the spot where the Killing Curse had struck the half-blood boy. The questioning of the remaining Order of the Phoenix members had confirmed Potter had married the mudblood Evans to produce the child. Harry Potter was the boy's name.

"My Lord?" Bellatrix murmured timidly.

The Dark Lord lifted his head from the papers he was reading, not appearing at all surprised to see her.

"Did you get anything out of the Order members?" the Dark Lord questioned.

Bellatrix quickly relayed the small amount of information they had received from the remaining Order members.

"We left three alive, if you would like to interrogate them personally, my Lord," ended her report.

"Have them brought to the dungeons. We will have to contact our allies in the neighboring countries as soon as possible to see where our wayward members of the Order of the Phoenix have flown off to," the Dark Lord said tapping his fingers across his desk.

"Not very Gryffindorish of them, my Lord," Bellatrix dared to point out.

"No, certainly not."

Bellatrix was thrilled to see that her comment had inspired a small smile to form on her Lord's lips for a brief moment.

The Dark Lord's gaze strayed to the form of the Potter boy in the crib. The boy was still enthralled with watching the little conjured snake, and was attempting to grab at it with his chubby hands. Bellatrix wanted to ask what had happened, how the boy or her Lord had survived the ordeal but she did not dare intrude in her Lord's private business. He would tell her if she needed to know. She was just pleased to see that her Lord was all right.

"Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord called, not removing his eyes from the small boy.

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix responded.

"You are one of my most loyal servants. While still young you have quickly worked your way to top of my ranks. You have never failed in any mission I have given you. You are a powerful and knowledgeable dark witch who has never wavered in your conviction and support of me," the Dark Lord stated.

Bellatrix felt a spark of warmth surge through her at the Dark Lord's plainly stated words. Never before had he so obviously praised her, and it left her feeling slightly light headed.

"Thank you, my Lord. I am simply thrilled to be a part of the grand empire you are crafting," Bellatrix managed to get out without her voice trembling.

"Your loyalty and dedication is why I know I can trust you," the Dark Lord's eyes were now solely focused on her, and it left her breathless.

"Of course, my Lord, I am your loyal servant. I will happily do anything you ask of me," Bellatrix swore.

"I know you will, and this is why I am going to share this information with you," the Dark Lord explained. "The Potter boy, you witnessed what occurred between us."

Bellatrix nodded even though it hadn't been a question.

"What happened was a magical anomaly, nothing more. It will never happen again."

Again Bellatrix nodded. Of course it was an anomaly. There was nothing that a half-blood infant could have consciously done to survive the Killing Curse cast by the most powerful wizard in history.

"The incident allowed me to test my own methods of immortality. It was successful of course. However, it has had an unfortunate side effect. It has irrevocably tied the child and myself together. I am not going to tell you the specifics. Not because I do not trust you, it is simply something that I am not willing to share with any other living being.

"The child and I are bound together. I cannot kill the boy without causing harm to myself. In fact his protection and wellbeing must be ensured. At first I was uncertain in how to proceed as children are certainly not my forte. However, I have come to the conclusion that it would be unwise to simply lock him away when he can be used," the Dark Lord's eyes were still focused on her.

Bellatrix was thrilled at being the focus of his attention for so long that it took her a moment to absorb the information. The very idea of her Lord being tied to the half blood child of Dumbledore's little followers left her sick. It made her want to destroy the child yet the Dark Lord said it would harm him. She would never do anything that might harm her Lord.

"I mean to raise the boy as my own child," the Dark Lord stated.

"My Lord?" Bellatrix gasped.

This was the last thing she had ever expected the Dark Lord to say.

"I am going to raise the Potter boy as my son. He carries a part of me within him. I have decided the best way to ensure his safety and loyalty is if I raised him myself," the Dark Lord steepled his fingers.

"Of course, my Lord. No one would be more capable of raising him to be a great wizard," Bellatrix rushed to reassure him even if she herself couldn't understand how he could even possibly consider it.

Bellatrix and her husband had discovered that they were both incapable of having children. She had not mourned this fact. Being a mother meant taking more time away from her Dark Lord and their cause. Rodolphus, while dedicated to their mission, had been greatly disappointed. He had tried to hide it. But Bellatrix knew her husband, and she knew he would have liked to have a child. She supposed it would have been nice to have someone to pass on her knowledge and ideals to. Someone to continue her fight after she was gone.

"Yes, I will raise him to be loyal to the Dark, to me. After all he is merely an infant. There hasn't been any time for his foolish parents to fill his head full of their muggle ideals and the supposed evil of Dark Magic. You could help me raise him to be a great asset to the Dark. I can think of many things you would be able to teach him," the Dark Lord crooned in a silky voice.

Bellatrix was surprised the Dark Lord had suggested she help in rearing the boy. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of it. The Potter boy held a piece of her Lord inside him. In her eyes it easily elevated him beyond the status of his dirty blood. It made him someone important, someone worthy. If there was any child she could find within herself to care for it would be the child who contained a piece of her beloved Dark Lord.

Bellatrix could see it all now. It would provide her with further glory to raise a boy who was so closely linked to her Lord. It would elevate her status when her Lord saw what good care she took with the child he had entrusted her with. The child needed to be protected in order to protect her Lord. Bellatrix didn't want to be a mother. But the thought of anyone else getting to raise and care for the child who was part of the Dark Lord left her seething. Helping the Dark Lord raise the child would be akin to having a family with him, which was a dream from her most secret fantasies.

For her Lord she would help him raise the half-blood child of blood traitors. She would instruct the boy in becoming an incredible asset to the Dark in order to deserve the gift of having such a connection to the Dark Lord.

"I would be grateful for this honor, my Lord. I will care for the boy and teach him all that I know. I will foster in him loyalty and passion for the Dark," Bellatrix vowed.

"Wonderful. Now, go. Speak of this to no one. I will tell those I choose when I choose of this development. Place the prisoners in the dungeons. Tell the others we will reconvene for a meeting tomorrow promptly at three to discuss the events of today and our plans for the future," the Dark Lord climbed to his feet.

"It will be done, my Lord," Bellatrix promised.

The Dark Lord nodded his approval.

Bellatrix didn't wait any longer. She turned on her heel and quickly left the manor behind. She apparated back to the former headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix where the Death Eaters were still sweeping through the house, searching for clues and taking note of those who had been slain. The only notable deaths were Frank Longbottom and one of the Prewett twins. They weren't sure if it was Fabian or Gideon. The other members hadn't been as active or as much of a threat.

Bellatrix quickly gathered the Death Eaters and relayed the Dark Lord's orders. She joined her husband and the two of them returned to Lestrange Manor.

This final victory was cause for a great celebration. Unlike the others, Bellatrix couldn't allow herself to join in the merriment. Her thoughts were with her Lord, and the child who was now irrevocably connected to the most powerful man in the world.


	2. Interlude: Lily's Despair

Lily Potter trembled. It had been two days since she had discovered that her precious baby boy hadn't made it out of the attack on their headquarters. The grief that constantly clawed at her left her feeling hollow. She had yet to cry too afraid that once she started she would never stop, and Lily couldn't let herself fall apart when so many others were injured.

Besides the fate of her husband was still unknown.

Lily knew she should have stayed behind with Harry. Another Order member could have completed the mission but it had been months since she had left their headquarters. When Dumbledore had asked her to accompany him she ha quickly agreed. Lily had been itching to get out of the overcrowded house. She wanted to actually contribute to the war effort like she had before Harry had been born.

James had been gone on an assignment with Remus, Sirius, and Peter. Her best friend and Harry's godmother, Marlene, had offered to look after Harry for her while she was gone. Alice and Molly were there too with their own children. They had all been chased from their own homes in the last couple of years. The various safe houses they had set up were the only places that were left to them.

The assignment was only supposed to be for a couple of hours. It was just a check in to see about warding a new safe house in a muggle suburb. The real goal was to get out of Britain entirely as Voldemort was slowly gaining more and more power. There were even some intel that he was planning on completely closing off the entirety of the British Isles, which would leave them trapped within. Already some members had made the move to various safe houses throughout Europe.

The attack had come as a surprise to all of them. Severus had only been able to get in touch with Fabian Prewett minutes before the attack. It had given those still in Order headquarters enough time to get most of the children out. Molly had informed Lily through her sobs that Harry had been taking a nap while the other children were playing in the living room. Lily had been having a hard time getting Harry to bed on her own since James had been gone, and so Lily's baby had been prone to taking frequent naps throughout the day.

Molly and Alice had evacuated the children with emergency portkeys while Arthur and Molly's brothers, and Frank shielded them. Marlene had gone to fetch Harry. She never made it out of the house. The majority of the Order members left in the headquarters hadn't managed to escape the massacre.

Lily had no idea how she was going to tell James. If she ever saw her husband again.

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had been gone for a week on a mission before the attack. Lily didn't know what it was, and she hadn't had a chance to sit down with her old headmaster since the attack to ask him about it. There was just too much going on. Only Dumbledore and those going on the assignment knew what they were doing. It was to ensure that if the Death Eater's ever captured them they wouldn't know the entirety of their plans. Now, two days after the attack there was still no sign of the Marauders.

The loss of her son and so many other close friends was devastating. A silence lingered around their new safe house. Not a single one of them hadn't lost someone.

Marlene McKinnon had been Lily's best friend since their first year of Hogwarts. The two of them had hit it off like a house on fire when they were both sorted into Gryffindor. Some of Lily's fondest memories included Marlene. They'd gone into hiding and joined the Order together right out of Hogwarts in an effort to halt Voldemort's progress. They'd fought together, and experienced loss together. Marlene had been Lily's Maid of Honor in her and James's small wedding ceremony.

Marlene had been one of the first people Lily had told she was pregnant after James of course. She'd been so worried about bringing a baby into the world when they were fighting a war, and they were in hiding. But she'd been excited too. Lily had always wanted to be a mother, and feared that with the war she wouldn't live to have the chance. Lily had asked Marlene to be Harry's godmother.

It was a task the other witch had taken seriously as she had given up her chance of escape in order to try and save Harry.

Lily would always be grateful to her for that.

She only had herself to blame for the loss of her son. At least if she had been there Lily could have been the one to sacrifice herself for her son.

Lily didn't even have a picture of her precious baby boy. Everything in their headquarters was lost to them. A patronus sent by Alice had warned her and Dumbledore of the attack. The two of them had still tried to return to the house in search of survivors but by the time they arrived there had been nothing left. Their headquarters had been burned to the ground with fiendfyre. There weren't even any bones left. Eventually Dumbledore had to drag her away before the Death Eaters could return and discover them.

The British Isles belonged to Voldemort now. They had to flee across the sea, and into Europe as quickly as they could. Their intel had been correct. The darkest wizard to have lived in centuries had put up powerful ward stones to close the borders of his conquered land. No one would be getting back into the United Kingdom anytime soon. There would be no escape or communication with those left behind either. She only hoped that James had made it out in time. Lily didn't know if she was capable of surviving this without him.

"Lily!" James's voice broke her from her stupor.

She turned and had never felt such relief and dread. Relief that her husband was alive, and dread that she now had to tell him that their precious baby did not share the same fate.

James pulled her into a fierce hug.

"I'm sorry I'm late. Peter is a traitor, he told Voldemort where to find our headquarters. He's actually a Death Eater, Lily. Wormtail, I can't believe. We barely escaped the trap he set for us. Padfoot sacrificed himself so Moony and I could escape. Where's Harry?" James pulled back to look at her with exhausted and sorrowful hazel eyes.

Lily finally broke down into harsh sobs. She finally allowed herself to cry over her unimaginable loss.


	3. Becoming a Father

“Daddy,” Harry banged his spoon against the tray in front of him as if to emphasize his demand for attention.

“Yes,” Voldemort lifted his gaze from the newspaper in his hand to acknowledge the baby.

The boy had been living with him for nearly five months now. It had taken Voldemort over a month of conditioning to get the boy to consistently refer to him as daddy. He wanted to continue to encourage the boy any chance he could get. Father would have been much preferred but Voldemort recognized it was beyond the child’s speech capabilities at his current age without completely butchering it. So with reluctance he had settled for the term.

It was important to familiarize the boy with Voldemort’s role in his life. For the first few weeks the dark haired toddler had cried incessantly for his blood traitor parents. It had been a huge test of Voldemort’s fortitude, as it had required a vast amount of patience on Voldemort’s part to alter this. Naturally his efforts had paid off. Now the boy eagerly held out his small arms to him when he entered the room. The boy never even called for the Potters anymore, his infant mind quickly forgetting them. When Harry called for daddy he meant the new ruler of wizarding Britain.

It was just as important to accustom himself in the role Voldemort had decided to take on. If the boy was not his horcrux, Voldemort would never have even considered attempting such a thing. He had never wanted children. Voldemort had found them intolerable even when he had been a child himself, and his views certainly hadn’t changed as he grew older. Children and people in general were only made tolerable when they proved their usefulness to him.

An accidental, human horcrux was certainly useful. Voldemort couldn’t just toss away. The opportunity had simply been too fortuitous to waste. Most importantly Voldemort hadn’t been willing to destroy even a single piece of his own soul.

Voldemort only had two other horcruxes. In his youth he had wavered over how many horcruxes he should make before deciding on just the two. No one had made more than one before, or if they had they had never recorded the results for others to study. He determined that caution in this particular area might serve him better. Two well-guarded soul anchors would serve as enough protection. Together with his own physical body there were three separate pieces of his soul, and three was a magically powerful number.

After all he’d asked the McKinnon girl to move aside three times on Samhain night, and she had chosen to sacrifice herself for her godson three times. It was the only theory Voldemort currently possessed even months after the event as to why his curse had rebounded. He’d gone over his memories innumerable times, and still that was the only logical conclusion he could draw.

He knew why a piece of his soul had broken free. Voldemort had been planning to use the death of Dumbledore to create a third horcrux, thus having four soul pieces. Four was also a significant magical number, and with his rising power he wanted another assurance of his immortality. Voldemort had prepared for the ritual before launching the attack, and only needed the catalyst of Dumbledore’s death to complete it.

Wormtail’s information had been woefully inaccurate, which the rat animagus had paid dearly for. Dumbledore was nowhere in sight during the raid. Voldemort had been enraged that he would be unable to end his most powerful enemy. He’d given in to his desire to toy with the McKinnon girl in his anger, and now was paying the price.

That price came in the form of the toddler sitting in the custom wooden high chair at Voldemort’s antique dining room table in his private manor.

It had taken him years to uncover the location of Slytherin Manor, and to crack the warding surrounding it to gain entrance. The castle had been in vast disrepair from centuries of disuse. Over time Voldemort had restored it to its former glory. Now, it was his sanctuary from everything except for the naughty child making a mess of his breakfast.

Instead of putting the oatmeal in his mouth where it belonged the boy was scooping it out of the bowl, and onto the tabletop of his highchair to spread it around for a purpose that could only make sense to a child under the age of 2.

“Harry,” Voldemort warned, eyes narrowing on the mischievous toddler.

Voldemort’s glare could cause full-grown men to flee in terror. The child in front of him just grinned, and used his spoon to continue spreading oatmeal across the surface of his highchair.

“No, Harry,” a flick of his fingers pulled the spoon from the boy’s hand.

He also resented having to refer to the child as Harry. However, Harry was used to his common name. As much as Voldemort attempted to familiarize him to his new, more appropriate wizarding name the boy would not yet respond to the more suitable Herakles that Voldemort had chosen for him. The boy should have just been glad he’d limited himself to choose something that was somewhat similar.

Harry’s bottom lip immediately stuck out, and tears welled in his bright green eyes. Voldemort was unmoved by the display.

“You did not listen to me, now you have lost the privilege of holding the spoon by yourself,” Voldemort proceeded to use wandless magic to feed the boy.

However, this seemed to be the boy’s goal all along. Harry happily clapped his oatmeal-smeared hands as he gulped down his breakfast via floating spoon.

“Cunning boy,” Voldemort smirked, allowing himself to feel a bit of pride that the boy had managed to manipulate him.

Harry smiled back, looking quite pleased with himself.

Voldemort had much more important things to be doing at the moment than feeding a toddler breakfast. However, he’d read such things created bonds between parent and child, and Voldemort was committed to building a positive relationship with Harry. The boy was his horcrux, Voldemort had to ensure the boy was loyal to him beyond all others.

Leaving his care in the hands of others would cause the boy to bond with that caretaker especially at this impressionable age. His house elves were the only others who were allowed contact with him at the moment, and Bellatrix was the only other person who even knew of the boy’s existence. Eventually he would start integrating the boy with other people. For now he would keep the boy isolated with only himself as an influence at his impressionable age.

Voldemort just had to constantly remind himself that the effort he put in now would provide him with a greater reward when the boy came of age.

It was how he succeeded with his takeover of the British wizarding world. The process had proven to be much slower than his earlier vision as a teenager of simply using brute force and all out warfare to gain control. The strategy he decided on had proven much more successful in the end. The slow infiltration of the Ministry and its people had ensured he held a much more powerful grip on wizarding Britain. Instead of being feared he was lauded as a powerful and respected revolutionary by the majority of wizards. Voldemort was the hero in the eyes of the people rather than villain he could have been. It was only Dumbledore’s ilk that had decided to oppose him.

His patience and politicking had paid off in his conquest of the British wizarding world. The same would happen for the Potter boy. There was simply no other option.

Voldemort’s soul piece was too interwoven with the boy’s to try and separate the two souls. Killing the boy may free his soul piece from the boy’s or it may just drag Voldemort’s soul piece into the afterlife with the boy since they were so intricately connected. There was no way of knowing for certain. He could only speculate and theorize with the small amount of research he had collected. Voldemort would not risk one of his soul pieces being destroyed with only a theory.

He couldn’t even try cutting it free. Souls weren’t tangible objects that could be cut with a simple _Diffindio_. Voldemort had even considered the ritual for creating a horcrux. It was the only spell he was aware of which was capable of carving off pieces of the soul. However, for it to be successful Harry would have to be the one to perform the complicated ritual on himself in order to remove a piece of his soul. Not to mention the boy would also have to murder someone. At the moment it was impossible, and would be impossible for many years to come.

“ _Nagi,_ ” Harry squealed in delight, clapping his hands.

Voldemort glanced over to see his faithful companion slither into the dining room. The large and magical python moved sinuously up the chair beside Harry’s highchair to touch the boy’s forehead with her snout. The boy was giggling and babbling at her in a combination of parseltongue and toddler nonsense.

“ _Little one_ ,” Nagini hissed back just as happy to see the boy she had come to see as her own hatchling.

Harry’s ability to speak parseltongue had come as a huge shock to Voldemort. It had launched him into an intensive study of the boy’s lineage to see if it was at all possible that the boy could have been a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. In his investigation he had discovered that the boy was a direct descendant of Ignotus Peverell. Voldemort was a direct descendant of Cadmus Peverell, which meant the two of them were very distantly related. Not that such a thing was uncommon in the wizarding world, and the distant relation didn’t explain the parseltongue.

The discovery of the boy’s lack of Slytherin ancestry from the Potter side had prompted Voldemort to conduct a heritage test on Harry. Voldemort had theorized that his mudblood mother might not actually be a muggleborn. After all there was no other way for Harry to be a parselmouth. The only person the boy could have inherited the trait from was Voldemort, which was entirely impossible as he knew he couldn’t possibly be related to the boy. Voldemort had personally seen to the deaths of all his immediate family, and he knew for certain that he had never fathered a child.

The heritage test he had conducted on Harry proved Lily Potter nee Evans was indeed a muggleborn. However, it had also proven that his horcrux had changed the boy more than Voldemort had ever thought possible.

The heritage test showed the relationship between them was something akin to a magical adoption. The horcrux had actually physically altered the boy allowing Harry to inherit some of Voldemort’s genetic magic, and a bit of his physical characteristics. Voldemort had noted the change to the boy’s messy mop of Potter hair, and a subtle change to his facial features. However, at the time he had simply thought it was due to the boy growing older. His reading had told him that babies changed rapidly in the first few years of their life.

Harry’s hair now had more of a curl to it, and his cheekbones were a bit higher and more sculpted like Voldemort’s. The differences were just enough that the boy was no longer immediately recognizable as the son of James and Lily Potter.

Genetically Harry was still the son of James and Lily Potter. However, thanks to magical intervention the boy was now his son too. Harry now carried Voldemort’s magic and DNA within him in addition to what he had received from his biological parents. The modification to his features and magic along with his Parseltongue abilities made the boy even more useful to Voldemort.

Voldemort had thought it impossible for his horcrux to change the boy in such a way. He never would have thought it possible Harry could inherit his family’s most revered ability. Nevertheless there was no refuting the obvious proof. The boy was a parseltongue and his newly acquired physical features were inherited from Voldemort.

The discovery had made Voldemort uneasy. It was an uncomfortable reminder of just how little he understood about the situation with his human horcrux.

In all of his years of research he had never come across a text that provided concrete evidence of what would happen if one person’s soul came to inhabit an already occupied body. Some had theorized the more powerful soul would subsume the weaker soul for control of the body or the body’s natural soul would destroy the interloper eventually. All of the theories suggested that it was impossible for two souls to occupy one body without negative consequences.

Against all odds, that hadn’t happened with little Harry Potter. Instead Voldemort’s soul piece had interwoven itself with the boy’s. They were separate yet the souls were intrinsically entwined with one another. So far the boy’s soul and his own soul piece hadn’t exhibited any negative signs. The two souls were thriving. The boy himself had remained in perfect physical health. Harry’s magic was stable and powerful especially with the influx of Voldemort’s own genetic contribution to his magic.

The boy had once more accomplished the impossible.

It was remarkable really, an incredible fete of magical discovery that Voldemort planned to keep entirely to himself. 

“ _Have you been behaving this morning, my little one?_ ” Nagini crooned to Harry.

“ _Yes!_ ” the toddler slapped his hand into the mess of oatmeal.

“ _It’s up for debate_ ,” Voldemort regarded the mess the boy had made.

Nagini produced a hissing chuckle.

A quiet pop announced the arrival of a house elf.

“Tilly!” Harry cheered.

Tilly was in charge of the maintenance of his manor, and keeping the other house elves in line. She was the only other living being beside Nagini Voldemort trusted to care for Harry. She was quite competent in taking care of the child’s needs, and Harry adored her. Tilly over saw the things Voldemort himself didn’t have the time or inclination to do around the house.

“Master, Malfoy is being here for your meeting. Tilly has sent him to Master’s office,” the serious little elf announced.

“Thank you, please see that Harry is cleaned, and read him a story,” Voldemort instructed the elf.

“Of course, Master,” the little elf turned her attention to the oatmeal-smeared child. “Tilly will be giving little master a bath.”

“Yes, that’s probably for the best,” Voldemort caught sight of some oatmeal in the boy’s black curls. He really had to start teaching the boy better table manners.

“ _I’ll go with the little one while you have your conversation with the vain one_ ,” Nagini made her way back to the floor.

V0ldemort stood from the table.

“Daddy!” Harry chirped his arms reaching for Voldemort the moment he saw him standing.

“You’re going to have a bath while I speak to dear Lucius,” Voldemort patted the boy’s head.

“I no take bath, daddy,” Harry informed him a serious look on his little face.

“Yes, you will be taking a bath,” Voldemort nodded firmly.

Harry’s small brows drew down in a frown but he did not argue further. He had learned in their last few months together that Voldemort followed through. If he said the boy was taking a bath that was what was going to happen. Despite this the boy, even at his young age, kept attempting to test the limits of what he could get away with. Voldemort hoped to break him of this long before he became a teenager.

Voldemort swept from the dining hall knowing that Harry was in capable hands, and wasn’t going to put up a fuss about the bath.

He made his way to his public office. It was the space that he used to see his Death Eaters. Voldemort also had a private study that was more secure where he kept his private research and plans. He couldn’t risk his Death Eaters snooping while they waited for him; although, if they dared to look through his private things he would be more than happy to show them the error of their ways.

Voldemort had been ruling the wizarding world for five years now. It was only in the last five months with the complete removal of the Dumbledore and his Order that he had really begun implementing the changes he wanted. There was no more resistance in Wizengamot. Only those loyal to him held seats there now. Voldemort no longer had to focus his energy and resources on counteracting Dumbledore’s attempts at unseating him. He could finally begin to restore the glory of the magical world without interference from the meddling old coot.

He planned to keep the warding stones in place for at least the next decade or two. Voldemort did not want the Order to return or make contact with those who remained to stir up muggle sentiment while he was establishing himself in the minds of the current generation. He wanted complete control over what came in and out of his country, and give his adjustments enough time to take affect. That did not mean he was going to keep the British wizarding world completely isolated. He already had a stable connection with several leaders of other magical nations.

In a decade, or more depending on how his policies progressed, he had plans to start expanding his rule into Europe and then beyond. He was laying the foundation now by making connections and infiltrating various positions of power in other nations. In the next decade he also planned to strengthen wizarding Britain.

The battles between his forces, and those that opposed him hadn’t caused him to lose too many powerful followers. However, the wizarding populace wasn’t overly large to begin with. Voldemort meant to change this. His desire to expand the population of wizarding Britain was the reason why Lucius had come today.

The blonde was seated in one of the ornate chairs that sat in front of Voldemort’s equally grand wooden desk. This office was meant more for grandeur and intimidation for those with enough prestige to visit him in his own manor.

“My Lord,” Lucius jumped to his feet and bowed the moment he realized Voldemort had entered.

“Lucius,” Voldemort greeted.

He seated himself in the comfortable wingback chair behind his desk. Voldemort waved the immaculately dressed wizard back into his chair when the blonde wizard hovered uncertainly for a moment.

“You called for me, my Lord?” Lucius questioned tentatively once he was reseated.

“Yes, there are several projects I wish to initiate.”

Lucius leaned forward intently. The young wizard was an adept politician. He had proven himself quite capable in swaying the Ministry opinions in Voldemort’s favor even before he had gained complete control. Voldemort would trust him with beginning these new projects to further prove his capabilities.

“First, I want to find a way to encourage witches and wizards to produce more children. Nothing excessive like the Weasleys of course.”

Lucius chuckled, instantly put at ease by the comment. A Malfoy always enjoyed a good joke at a Weasley’s expense. He knew Lucius was disappointed the red haired family had managed to evade capture along with the other Order members.

“I simply would like to see our population grow. There are too few of us. The muggles out number us far too much for my liking. However, the muggle problem is a task I’ve left for another. Your task is simply to encourage a population growth. Is that something you think you are capable of?”

“Of course, my Lord,” Lucius nodded quickly.

“Good, you may bring in those of your choosing to assist you in the project. I also want to start the construction of several boarding houses to raise the muggleborns. Rookwood and his Unspeakables have created a device to identify and locate muggleborns within the first year of their lives. I already have an agency being formed who will be in charge of these removals, and altering the appropriate documentation and memories in the muggle world.

“However, we will need a place to house and raise the muggleborns. Several places I would like your help with this endeavor. We need kind and educated caretakers who are loyal to our cause, and will raise the children to be loyal. We will also need large several large houses. I want the homes to be welcoming, and well taken care of. Updated with all the modern conveniences.

“The largest problems with muggleborns are the risks they pose to exposing our world, and the ignorance they possess of our world. For too many years they were left to languish in the muggle world, and thus when they came to our world they were already set in their ways. They wanted to make the wizarding world more like the muggle world because due to their upbringing they believed it to be the superior one. This will be our chance to rectify that wrong.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Lucius nodded, not daring to go against his opinion.

Voldemort had been slowly altering the pureblood mindset on muggleborns over the past decade. Purebloods still loathed them; nonetheless, they had come to see the necessity of educating muggleborns, and integrating them into wizarding society. Having them integrated at such a young age would further smooth over any concerns.

“Do you have any questions?” Voldemort examined Lucius carefully.

The young Malfoy heir thought he had an efficient mask. Voldemort had gone to school with Lucius’s father, Abraxas, and father and son had many of the same tells. The slight tension around the wizard’s pale eyes proved just how nervous Lucius was about undertaking this task.

Voldemort didn’t really hate muggleborns. He hated muggles, and he hated muggleborns who sought to alter the magical world to something more like the muggle one. Muggleborns were magical and therefore tolerable if adequately trained. The only thing truly hindering them was that they were raised by muggles. They spent far too long not knowing of the wizarding world. When they finally joined the magical world they did not wholly embrace it, instead they wanted to change it to make it more like the muggle world. Slowly, over the last century they had succeeded.

Dark magic had been lauded as evil, and removed from the Hogwarts curriculum due to misconceptions that were never properly addressed in a muggleborn’s magical education. Rituals and festivals that were once celebrated by all witches and wizards were banned due to negative muggle perceptions. Wizards like Dumbledore didn’t help matters either. He preached the evilness of dark magic, and how wonderful muggles were yet he made no attempts to advance the wizarding world.

The respected wizard had held such power with all of his various titles, and he did nothing with them. Dumbledore allowed the curriculum at Hogwarts to stagnate and become mediocre. Dumbledore was comfortable just riding the coattails of muggle accomplishments like the Knight Bus. The infernal contraption wasn’t the melding of muggle and wizarding ideals like he claimed it was a way to be complacent, and not try to better advance magical transportation.

Voldemort would not tolerate such laziness in his new kingdom. 

He was going to start by properly educating the muggleborns while they were still young and malleable. They would grow up in the world they were always meant to be a part of. There would be no reason for them to want to interact with the muggle world once all of their connections to it were cut off.

In fact contact with muggles with the general public was soon to be prohibited. In a matter of a few weeks contact with muggles would become an offence with a minimum sentence of two years in Azkaban more depending on the duration and nature of the contact.

“My only question is when would you like me to accomplish these tasks by, my Lord?”

“Have some plans drawn up and delivered to me by the end of the month,” Voldemort decided that would be a sufficient amount of time for the young wizard to complete the assignment.

Voldemort dismissed the blonde.

The muggleborn situation was only one of the many changes he was making. Voldemort had also reinstalled all of the old traditions and festivals. He had retracted all of the bans on dark rituals and magic. Voldemort was also funneling a lot of funds into magical research. For too long the wizarding world had been stagnate. Any inventions that were made were often done through using muggle inventions like the Knight Bus. Voldemort wanted new magical innovations. He wanted to encourage the creation of new potions and spells.

Purebloods had become inherently opposed to change because for so long any modifications made had been muggle modifications. There were many who were thrilled at the idea of Voldemort’s desire for magical growth and expansion.

Voldemort took the time to complete some paperwork towards that endeavor. Even becoming Britain’s unchallenged sovereign didn’t save him from all of the bureaucracy and paperwork that was necessary to keep a stable government functioning. Voldemort had trusted underlings for most of the menial tasks but he still liked knowing everything that was going on in his Ministry, and that meant reading reports and signing off on all of the proposals.

He spent the weekdays in the Ministry acclimating his subjects to his presence and his new rules. On the weekends he devoted his time to his own pursuits and now those pursuits included raising Harry.

Once finished with his paperwork he sent it off to Evan Rosier, one of his most trusted Death Eaters, who oversaw the running of the ministry in his absence. He then made his way to his personal office to conduct some of his own research. His personal office was a bit less grand, however, it was much more comfortable. Shelves filled with his favorite texts covered one wall. The wall behind his desk depicted a tapestry of the Slytherin family tree. The wall opposite consisted of a beautiful black stone fireplace with a mantel filled with rare and prized magical items he had collected throughout his years of travel. The last wall was a window looking out on the expansive and beautiful grounds of Slytherin Manor. 

A soft pop announced Tilly’s arrival. In her arms was a freshly washed Harry in a soft green child’s robes. The child was nearly as large as the elf was now, and she immediately set the boy on his own feet where he easily balanced himself to remain upright.

“Little master is being all clean, and has been read a story, Master,” the house elf informed him proudly.

“Daddy!” Harry’s arms instantly outstretched towards Voldemort, and he quickly toddled around the desk to Voldemort’s side. The boy had made huge progress in walking these last few months.

Voldemort credited this to his own child rearing skills. Most parents were too soft on their children. Voldemort had encouraged Harry’s walking abilities by refusing to pick the boy up in instances when he was perfectly capable of walking himself. In an effort to make it to his side the boy had improved immensely, and was now running about the manor leaving Nagini and Tilly to chase after him.

The boy clutched at Voldemort’s robes with his small fists, and looked up to flash him a bright grin.

Voldemort couldn’t help but find it amusing over just how happy Harry was to see him all of the time. The boy was completely unaware of the fact that Voldemort had kidnapped him. Children were such easily malleable beings. Then again the majority of people Voldemort had encountered throughout his life were easily manipulated. All it took was knowing what a person desired or believed in to push them into doing what he wanted.

“Thank you, Tilly, I will call you when I would like you to pick Harry back up,” Voldemort dismissed.

The elf nodded and popped away.

Voldemort scooped the boy up, and settled him on his lap. He tried to spend as much time with Harry as possible, and as long as the boy behaved appropriately he was allowed to remain in his office.

The boy turned his attention to the newly acquired ancient tome of dark rituals and curses Voldemort was leafing through. So far it wasn’t anything special. However, Voldemort was never one to turn away newly acquired knowledge, and was still hoping to discover a spell or ritual he didn’t know yet.

“Daddy, I read,” Harry placed his hands on the pages, and attempted to slide the heavy book towards him. It certainly would have been easier if the book wasn’t nearly as large Harry.

“I will read, and you will listen. Place your hands in your lap. This book is old and I won’t be pleased if you rip the pages,” Voldemort corrected, propping up the book.

“Okay,” Harry chirped, and did as he was told.

“Very good. Now, let’s see. Hmm, this seems to be an interesting one, a curse to slowly turn one’s internal organs into glass. Or how about this, a ritual we could try to track down those pesky parents of yours and all their friends. What do you think? Should we read about this one?” Voldemort questioned his young charge.

“Yes,” Harry nodded vigorously despite not having a clue as to what Voldemort was actually saying to him.

“I agree. Now let’s see we need the blood of a werewolf collected on a full moon. I could just kill Greyback. He has been so very annoying as of late, yowling about more territory. The werewolf should just be happy I gave him anything,” Voldemort continued to softly read aloud the directions while Harry patiently sat and listened.

Voldemort had tried several different tracking spells in his search for the wayward Order of the Phoenix, and thought this one most likely wouldn’t be successful either. He was fairly certain the better-known members would be hiding under the Fidelius, and unlike last time they would have no doubt chosen a more trustworthy Secret Keeper than Wormtail.

His contacts in the other countries also hadn’t seen hide nor hair of them. He knew they would need time to lay low and gather themselves after their crippling defeat. Voldemort had forced their hand in fleeing the country. Their silence would only last for so long. Dumbledore was not someone who could resist meddling for very long. The former headmaster of Hogwarts would no doubt make his reappearance sooner rather than later spouting on about how Voldemort was evil incarnate.

The old coot would undoubtedly try and discredit Voldemort to the International Confederation of Wizards. However, his once venerated professor would find that route quite impossible.

Voldemort had made nice with the Confederation even before finally ousting the Order of the Phoenix. It didn’t hurt that his rise to power hadn’t involved even the slightest of breaches in the Statute of Secrecy, and the majority of the prominent deaths in wizarding Britain had been set up to look accidental. Voldemort hadn’t wanted to provide them with a reason to discredit his rule of the British Isles.

He had made several allies with the other members of the Confederation who would support him in the coming years even with all of the changes Voldemort would be putting in place. Their support of him would keep them from giving support to Dumbledore when he attempted to regain control of Britain. Being on friendly terms would also keep them unsuspecting when he eventually struck, and conquered all of them.

“And you’ll help me, won’t you, Harry?” Voldemort crooned into the boy’s ear.

“I help,” Harry turned to face him, his little face pulled into a bright smile.

“You’ll help me conquer all of those weak and foolish witches and wizards, and then we will take care of the muggles,” he tweaked one of the boy’s dark curls.

“Yes,” Harry chuckled and tried to grab at Voldemort’s hand.

Voldemort waved his hand back and forth keeping his fingers from the boy’s clutches. The boy’s laughter increased as he tried to desperately trap his hand, and Voldemort wondered at how easily amused children were. Finally he allowed the boy to take hold of his hand. Harry scrutinized his hand with all the fascination of someone making a great discovery. The boy then looked over his own tiny hands.

“Well, what is your determination? Are they similar?” Voldemort inquired.

Harry provided his typical answer. “Yes.”

“Good, then perhaps we can return to our reading now,” Voldemort returned his attention to the text in front of him.

Harry’s patience eventually ran out. The boy wiggled down off his lap to play with Nagini when the python made her entrance. The large snake was delighted to have the boy join her where she curled up in front of the fireplace. Voldemort was momentarily distracted when the boy laid flat on his stomach, and started scooting himself along the dark wood floors while hissing nonsensically. The act caused Nagini to burst into a fit of laughter or as close to laughter as a snake was capable of producing.

“ _What is he doing_?” Voldemort hissed at Nagini utterly perplexed by the odd behavior.

However, Harry was the one to answer him, “ _I a snake, Daddy_.”

“ _And what a wonderful snake you make, little one_ ,” Nagini praised.

Voldemort rolled his eyes upward. “ _Of course you are. At this rate I will never get anything accomplished_.”

“ _You have a hatchling, my lord, of course you won’t ever get anything accomplished_ ,” Nagini sassed.

Voldemort pinched the bridge of his nose questioning his decisions.


	4. A Birthday Surprise

The sound of his bedroom door flying open woke Voldemort from his much-needed rest. He could have only gotten a few hours of sleep considering how late he had returned from the Ministry. The Unspeakables had wanted to run a new project by him in order to gain more funding. The idea of connected doorways for instantaneous travel had been quite intriguing, and he hadn’t expected to stay as long as he had to look over the progress they had made so far.

The door flying open was soon followed by the sound of tiny little feet pitter-pattering over the floor.

“Dad! Wake up! Daddy!”

Voldemort took a moment to prepare himself by reinforcing his Occlumency barriers. The tactic had come in handy these last few years when dealing with his subjects and his child. Raising a child while trying to establish his kingdom had proven to be a challenge. Voldemort couldn’t quite say which was the more challenging task of the two. Harry was oftentimes more mature and intelligent than some of the full-grown wizards Voldemort was forced to interact with. However, his son was infinitely more mischievous, and was now capable of bouts of accidental magic.

The bedframe rattled slightly as Harry climbed up the side. Voldemort could feel the bed shake as his child bounced across the surface to reach him where he lay in the center of his massive bed.  

“Daddy,” Harry whispered directly into his ear.

Feeling sufficiently ready to deal with Harry he opened his eyes only to find Harry’s face inches away from his own. Voldemort didn’t jerk back. This was an occurrence he had unfortunately become accustomed to. Instead the Dark Lord took a deep breath. Raising a child had certainly expanded his level of tolerance.  

“Harry, do you remember what I told you about entering my room?” he gently steered the boy away from the close proximity to his face, and pulled himself into a sitting position with his back against the headboard.

“I need to ask permission,” Harry answered dutifully, settling down beside him.

“Then why are you in my room when I have not given you my permission?” Voldemort regarded the still pajama-clad boy.

His son had grown in the last four years into a precocious and intelligent little boy. Voldemort had grown surprisingly fond of the boy, and blamed the connection between their souls in addition to the genetic connection they shared. The fondness was certainly not something he had anticipated occurring in the process of raising Harry.

Harry’s black curls were a mess at the moment as he must have jumped out of bed and run directly to Voldemort’s room. Baby fat still clung to his small face. However, his features were becoming more prominent. Due to the mix of features he had gained from Voldemort in combination with the features he had inherited from his birth parents Harry was no longer instantly recognizable as the child of Lily and James Potter.

The inherited features from the Dark Lord altered his appearance just enough to disguise him, which pleased Voldemort. He didn’t want anyone to identify the boy.

Voldemort had made sure to list Harry Potter as one of the deceased from the Samhain day attack on the Order of the Phoenix. He didn’t want anyone making a connection between Harry Potter and his own son. Not when the members of the Order of the Phoenix were still currently at large four years later.

The Gryffindor idiots would stop at nothing to get Harry if they believed he still lived. Voldemort would never let that happen. He had put too much time and effort in to Harry to lose him to those who still dared to oppose him. Voldemort would never let them have his horcrux.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, but it’s my birthday! I’m five now,” Harry shoved his hand into Voldemort’s face as if the ruler of wizarding Britain needed a reminder of what the number 5 was.

Harry’s birthday was the reason he hadn’t wanted to remain at the Ministry as late as he had. He knew how excited his son would be on his birthday, and such milestones were important to observe. August 14thwasn’t truly Harry’s birthday even the boy thought it was. It was two weeks after his true birthday. Voldemort had chosen a different date to further distance his son from who he had been before.

“You are indeed. Happy 5thBirthday, Harry,” Voldemort gently steered Harry’s hand away from its close proximity to his face.

Having a child had forced him to get used to having another person frequently encroach into his personal space. Voldemort did not enjoy having others touch him, and therefore did not allow others to touch him. The exception being Harry. He had come to learn children were highly tactile creatures.

When Harry was young Voldemort had no choice but to carry him or cradle him. As he grew older Voldemort started to put more boundaries between them, boundaries Harry completely ignored despite repeated corrections. Voldemort could have responded more harshly, however, he didn’t want to resort to such tactics unless absolutely necessary.

The goal was to nurture and instill loyalty in Harry not to alienate his child.

“Are we going to have cake and presents?” Harry asked brightly, no doubt remembering previous birthdays.

“We are going to do something even better than cake and presents,” Voldemort informed him.

Harry’s emerald eyes widened comically. “What?”

“We are going to perform some magic,” well, Voldemort was going to perform some magic but Harry was going to take part in the ritual as well.

Voldemort observed all of the traditional wizarding celebrations, and had been teaching Harry to as well. They celebrated the solstice rituals, Samhain and Beltane celebrations, among several others. Voldemort had prepared a small ritual for Harry to assist in on his birthday. At the end of it Harry would even have a new surprise.

“Really?” Harry practically began vibrating in his excitement.

Harry had a deep love of magic. One that Voldemort continued to instill and nurture within him.

“Yes,” Voldemort nodded. “First you must get dressed, and have your breakfast.”

“Okay,” Harry quickly began scrambling off the bed.

“I will meet you in the dining room,” Voldemort told the boy as Harry raced out of his room.

Voldemort dressed in simple but elegant black robes with silver trim before going to the dining room. The house elves swiftly delivered his breakfast, his morning cup of tea, and the paper. The Daily Prophet didn’t contain anything he didn’t already know about. There was some praise about the smooth running of the two muggleborn boarding houses Lucius had successfully set up.

The Malfoy Home for Youth had been set up for muggleborn children 10 and older. The Florian Children’s Home contained muggleborn children 9 and younger. Voldemort had decided it was best to separate the age groups. The older generation had still gotten a bit of influence from Dumbledore and his supporters. Many were also not pleased about the forced separation from their muggle parents. It had caused a bit of a stir among the public initially but they had eventually settled down. The younger muggleborns weren’t a problem at all. A few of his Death Eaters had admitted to being surprised at how quickly the children adjusted to their new lives and to the wizarding world.

The muggleborn removal division and the boarding homes were just a couple of the many policy changes that Voldemort was pleased to have accomplished within the few short years of his rule.

Hogwarts was his biggest point of pride. Voldemort had done what should have been done years ago. He added more staff and subjects. The wizarding population was growing. Witches and wizards were having more children due to Lucius’s successful campaign. The general population was growing more comfortable with his reign. Their economy was thriving and growing.

Voldemort had implemented faster paced Hogwarts classes for those who could handle them. Harsh punishments were put in place for those students who didn’t put forth their best effort. Extra tutoring sessions were mandatory for those who were struggling. Voldemort would not abide the lazy in his new world.

Voldemort didn’t have to wait long for Harry to join him. The boy was presentable in emerald green robes, and his curls were now neatly brushed. His son knew the consequences of not dressing appropriately. He also had house elves to help dress and groom him so there really was no excuse for slovenliness. 

Once Harry was seated Voldemort signaled to the house elves. The elves immediately popped in with a plate of waffles. Voldemort only allowed Harry the sweet treat for breakfast on special occasions.

The beaming smile Harry produced as he stared at the stack of waffles proved just how much the boy enjoyed them.

“What kind of magic are we going to do, Daddy?” Harry asked between bites of his waffles.

Voldemort had finally taught him proper table manners. His son certainly no longer spread his meals across the table.

“I have a ritual set up for us to do together,” Voldemort answered without taking his eyes from the paper.

“What kind of ritual?”

“You will just have to wait and see,” Voldemort smirked at the boy.

Harry quickly finished up his waffles, and did his best to wait patiently while Voldemort finished his.

Voldemort took his time but eventually took pity on the boy. “Come along.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. His son swiftly adhered himself to his side as the two of them made their way through Slytherin Manor to one of the smaller ritual rooms. Voldemort had already set up the rune circle for their ritual. While Voldemort had been teaching Harry the ancient runes symbols right alongside the English alphabet, configuring a runic circle was well beyond the five-year-old’s abilities.

“I know that one. It’s…ehwaz,” Harry exclaimed pointing to the central symbol of the configuration.

“And what does it mean?” Voldemort was proud Harry had remembered that much.

“It means friends?” Harry glanced questioningly at him. 

“Close, it means partnership,” Voldemort removed his outer robe, and directed Harry to do the same.

“Now you must stand on the north point of the circle. Right on ehwaz,” Voldemort instructed.

Harry eagerly did as he was told. “Now what?”

“You will prick your finger and let three drops of blood no more no less fall upon the rune. Then you mustn’t move or speak until the ritual is complete. I will chant the spell, and use my own magic to activate the ritual,” Voldemort handed Harry a silver needle.

“How will I know it’s all done?” Harry asked.

“You will know,” Voldemort assured him.

Harry pricked his finger without hesitation and let the appropriate amount of blood fall onto the rune. Voldemort chanted the words and his magic eagerly responded. Instantly the circle lit up, and a thrum of magic sparked through the air.

This particular ritual had been outlawed despite its harmless nature due to the use of blood. It had been one of the many things that Voldemort saw as a detriment to wizarding culture. It had deprived wizarding children of the chance to have true a familiar rather than the limited choice pets Hogwarts had once permitted.

The magic slowly trickled away, and the light dimmed to reveal a small white snake curled in the inner circle of the runes. Voldemort instantly recognized the breed, and couldn’t believe his son’s good fortune. The tiny white opalescent snake had a pair of tiny gold horn to go along with their golden eyes and the amber jewel on their forehead.

“A snake,” Harry gasped.

“A horned serpent. They are quite rare. They were hunted to extinction in Europe. Their horns and the gems on their foreheads are quiet valuable. You are lucky to have one be your familiar,” Voldemort was pleased with this outcome.

“The ritual was to find a familiar?” Harry questioned.

Voldemort had taught Harry exactly what a familiar was a week earlier in preparation for the ritual.

“It is, the ritual was meant to find the familiar who would best suit your own needs and personality. Now why don’t you introduce yourself to them?” Voldemort motioned to the tiny snake peering around the chamber with obvious curiosity.

“ _Hello, I’m Herakles, but everyone calls me, Harry_ ,” Harry introduced himself.

Voldemort was still displeased that despite all odds Harry’s nickname had survived. He had grown too used to it.

“ _Hello, I am pleased to have been called to become the familiar of a speaker_ ,” the little snake spoke up with a lyrical, childlike voice.

“ _What’s your name?_ ” Harry crouched down beside the tiny snake.

“ _I don’t have one. I only hatched a few moon turns ago_ ,” the young horned serpent replied.

“ _How about Aurelia? It means gold right, Daddy?_ ” Harry glanced at him for confirmation.

The Dark Lord inclined his head, “ _It does._ ”

“ _What do you think?_ ” Harry returned his attention to the infant horned serpent.

“ _I like it_ ,” the tiny serpent shimmied closer to Harry’s crouched form.

Harry carefully scooped up his new familiar. The newly named Aurelia curled around the young boy’s arm. His son scratched the top of the little snake’s head a huge smile on his face.

“Thank you, Dad. This is the best birthday present in the whole world!” Harry’s eyes shone brightly.

Voldemort felt an unexpected spark of happiness at seeing Harry so happy. “You are welcome. Now we have some research to do. You need to learn about your familiar in order to properly take care of her.”

“Okay,” the younger wizard agreed all the while continuing to stroke his tiny familiar.

“Let us head up to the library, and I will help you,” Voldemort laid a hand on his son’s shoulder.

He steered the boy up to Slytherin Manor’s vast library. The boy hardly paid attention as he was too busy chattering away to Aurelia. Voldemort was pleased Harry had chosen an appropriate name. He’d feared the boy would choose some cutesy name, and then he would have to step in to provide a more appropriate name.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the library. There were several different texts containing information on horned serpents. Voldemort chose the most basic to read to Harry who did an admiral job of listening and asking questions about his new familiar.

In general Voldemort was impressed with Harry’s ability to listen for extending periods of time and retain information at his young age. His research into child development had suggested children had the attention span slightly above that of a goldfish. Again Voldemort attributed this to his own parenting ability. He held high expectations for Harry, and he had equally high consequences if Harry didn’t follow his rules. Voldemort also provided high praise and reward when his son succeeded.

He introduced Harry to material others would say was above the child’s head. However, Voldemort never thought it was too early to start educating him. While he allowed Harry time to play he did not think it was appropriate for his son to waste his days on frivolous activities when he could be doing something productive.

After gathering information on the horned serpent Voldemort gave Harry the presents he had purchased for his birthday. He only gave him a few gifts not wanting to spoil him. The majority of the gifts were practical. This year Voldemort had given him a few sets of new clothes, a few more children’s books to continue building his reading skills, and a wooden three-dimensional puzzle to improve his cognitive and problem solving skills. The puzzle was charmed to take a new shape with a new way to solve it every time Harry solved the previous configuration.

Voldemort was reviewing the Unspeakable project in his office. Harry sat on the rug in front of the fireplace working on his new puzzle with his new familiar curled around his neck. Nagini was observing the proceedings. The larger and older snake was still a bit put out at having to share her ‘hatchling’ with another snake. Once realizing Aurelia was also a babe she quickly took to the little serpent.

The Unspeakables had crafted mirrors that once enchanted and connected to other mirrors who were similarly enchanted would allow wizards and witches to communicate through them. Voldemort believed it to be a much more effective communication method than owls or the floo. The mirrors provided instance communication unlike owls but the view was perfectly clear unlike the distorted vision from the floo. The upkeep was minimum was enchanted and connected they wouldn’t require anything further than calling the name of the person they wanted to speak with.

Voldemort had pressed them to take the mirrors a step further and try to enhance them to become means of travel as well. Voldemort had even offered them a few ideas on to accomplish such a thing. It was a matter Voldemort could have solved himself if he didn’t have more important things to consider.

A small pop announced Tilly’s arrival. “Master, Lady and Lord Lestrange is being here with birthday gifts for young master.”

“Aunt Bella and Uncle Rodolphus?” Harry perked up.

Bellatrix had taken the task of helping Voldemort raise Harry very seriously just as he knew she would. The witch didn’t have a maternal bone in her body nevertheless she did try to be kind to Harry, and was eager to start teaching him curses. She seemed to genuinely care for him especially when she discovered Harry was technically his son, and began fawning over him.

The early days of Bellatrix’s interactions with the boy had amused Voldemort to no end. Put the witch in a life or death battle and she would face down the greatest of foes without hesitation. Hand her a giggling two year-old-child and she looked ready to flee in the opposite direction. She was a bit better now that Harry was older, and Harry did adore her. Considering she was one of three people Harry actually had contact with it really didn’t mean much.

Voldemort had decided to share Harry’s existence with Bellatrix’s husband. The man was utterly loyal just as his father and brother were. Rodolphus knowing about Harry meant that Voldemort could leave his son with the Lestranges when he had to be away for more than a few days. Voldemort could trust them to look after him. Rodolphus clearly cared for the boy. The dark wizard had always wanted to be a father, and he doted on Harry.

“Send them up, Tilly,” Voldemort had something he wanted to discuss with the two of them.

“Right away, Master,” the little elf popped away.

Only moments later Bellatrix and Rodolphus entered the office, they were each holding small, brightly wrapped packages in their hands.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” Rodolphus greeted.

Bellatrix echoed the statement.

“Thank you, Aunt Bella and Uncle Rodolphus. Look at my familiar,” Harry was quick to shove Aurelia towards the pair.

“Oh how lovely,” Rodolphus crouched down to properly examine the horned serpent.

“They look quite fierce,” Bellatrix agreed peering down at the tiny serpent.

The compliments were the only opening Harry needed to provide an in depth retelling of how he had acquired his new companion, and just what his new familiar was.

Eventually he got around to opening the presents that Bellatrix and Rodolphus had brought him. Rodolphus had gotten him a set of magical building blocks that Harry seemed suitably impressed with, and Voldemort approved of. Bellatrix had give him a book of dark curses that Harry wouldn’t be able to read let alone practice at his current age. Nevertheless Harry thanked her, and began leafing through the book.

“I know he can’t quite read yet, however, this particular book has a lot of impressive drawings in it I thought he could look at,” Bellatrix stated proudly while Rodolphus wore a long-suffering look.

“Ew, that man doesn’t have any eyeballs,” Harry’s face scrunched up as he looked over the surprisingly detailed drawing.

“The eye removal curse. The incantation is _Oculi Auferio_. Your Uncle Rodolphus used that curse on Mad Eye Moody,” Bellatrix informed him.

“Wow,” Harry looked quite impressed.

“I can tell you all about it you’d like,” Rodolphus looked to Voldemort for permission.

Voldemort inclined his head.

Rodolphus easily settled beside Harry to tell him of the battle against the mad former Auror embellishing the story a bit to entertain Harry. Voldemort was just displeased that Moody had managed to escape with his fellow Order of the Phoenix members. The overly paranoid wizard was someone Voldemort would have liked to see eviscerated. One day he was sure it would happen.

Once the story was over Voldemort had Nagini take Harry for a walk around the grounds in order to speak privately to the Lestranges.

“I would like to discuss something with the two of you,” Voldemort informed them once the two of them had seated themselves in the chairs in front of his desk.

“Certainly, my Lord,” Bellatrix quickly agreed.

“Harry is getting older, and I would like to start exposing him to the world. He will be introduced as my son, and undoubtedly this will cause questions about who his mother is. I don’t want the general public knowing of his true origins thus I would ask that Bellatrix play that part. I will state that I wanted an heir, and asked for Bellatrix’s aid. I have already developed a spell that will temporally turn his eyes the same shade of grey as yours when he is out in public. This will effectively disguise him, and further distance him from his previous parents. Would this be acceptable to both of you?”

“I would be willing to do anything to aid in the protection of Harry,” Rodolphus nodded resolutely.    

Bellatrix looked stunned, and only barely managed to stutter out an affirmative answer.

Voldemort knew of Bellatrix’s love for him. How could he not? Her love made her easily malleable to his suggestions, and ensured her utter and complete loyalty. It also wasn’t public knowledge that Bellatrix was infertile. No one would question the possibility of her being Harry’s biological mother.

“Wonderful, I also wanted to offer you a position, Rodolphus,” Voldemort regarded the other wizard.

“My Lord?” Rodolphus’s eyes widened.

“There have only been interim headmasters for Hogwarts these last few years. Mostly due to the fact that I have been overseeing Hogwarts. I have implemented the majority of the changes I wish to have taken place now, and I want to turn over the reigns to someone else. I have been trying to find the right person, and I believe you are it. What do you think?”

Voldemort truly did think Rodolphus was the right fit. The wizard was good with children. He liked them unlike many of his Death Eaters. The older Lestrange brother was strict yet fair and nurturing. He would keep staff in line, and ensure the children were given a well-rounded education.

“I would be honored, my Lord,” Rodolphus bowed his head.

The position of headmaster of Hogwarts was always a prestigious title. Any position at Hogwarts were generally prestigious, which was why several Death Eaters were now professors there. All of his Death Eaters held powerful positions in his new government. Voldemort knew the importance of rewarding his followers. He doled out harsh punishment when they failed him, and provided equally high rewards when they succeeded. It ensured their loyalty, and improved their overall success rate.

“Wonderful, you’ll start this fall,” Voldemort smiled.

Rodolphus thanked him profusely for the opportunity. Voldemort laid out the plan of revealing Harry’s existence to the general public. He planned on releasing a statement that would be published in the Daily Prophet. Voldemort would then wait for the upheaval to die down before he started bringing Harry to public places alongside him.


End file.
